Page 44 of Bad Call

“Are you okay?” I ask, dipping down for another gentle kiss.

“Never been better,” she sighs, her warm breath ricocheting off my lips. “I’m hungry, though.”

“On it.” Without leaving the warmth of her body, I stretch my arm, popping the clear plastic lid from the cake container and scooping a small bite onto one of the forks beside it. It’s awkward with one hand, but I manage, bringing it between us for her to take. She does, slowly chewing as her nose scrunches in response.

“What?” I say, raising a brow, even though I already know the answer. Grocery store cake is great when you’re eighteen and have ten dollars to your name, but apparently, our tastes have changed, because this one doesn’t evenlookappetizing.

“This is really bad,” she replies with a cringe. “Maybe we should rethink things for next year.” I bark a laugh, curiosity getting the best of me as I stab another piece, closing my lips around it and immediately wishing I hadn’t.

“Fuck,” I choke out, my stomach turning as the taste of something—salt, maybe?—violates my taste buds. Whoever made this thing didn’t follow the recipe at all, but Iswallow anyway, figuring that one small bite is good enough to say that we stuck with our tradition.

We spend the rest of the night laughing, playing, and making love under the stars, the sound of the water as it meets the sand echoing around us. I soak in every smile, every giggle, everyI love you; my heart overflowing with emotion as my wife clings to me like I’m all she’ll ever need.

The journey to this place was long and winding, filled with moments that I swear I thought would break me completely. But in the end, true love prevailed, bringing us through the dark so we could experience the world just like we were always supposed to—as Mr. and Mrs. Hayes.

EPILOGUE

STELLA

“Sorry I’m late!”I rush out as I burst through the door of the WAGs’ suite. As usual, my morning started with Emmett yanking me out of bed at the asscrack of dawn, insisting that I shower with him because we’ve barely seen each other. I started my new, permanent job in the step-down unit at the Cleveland Clinic last week. By the time Friday hit, I was beyond exhausted. I slept pretty much all day yesterday while he prepared for today’s game, and after he wore me out against the shower wall—then again in our bed—I fell right back asleep. Eventually, I’ll get used to our busy schedules, but today isnotthat day.

Ever since the Renegades offered him a hefty five-year contract extension, life has been a whirlwind. We broke ground on our dream house, which will be finished before the colder weather moves in. I’m beyond ready for the next chapter of our story—the one with a beautiful home, amazing friends, and hopefully, a bunch of babies someday soon.

“It’s fine,” Bailey replies. “Surprisingly, you aren’t the last one here today.” I look around, notice all the empty seats, and blow out a relieved breath. Sydney must be here somewhere, because her bag and jacket are sitting where she normally does. And Livvy is likely giving Maddox a pep talk or doing pregame stuff with her father and the team’s general manager.

I walk to the front row of seats, peeking out the large window that overlooks the field. The Renegades only had one preseason game at home, which Emmett didn’t play in, because they didn’t want any of the starters getting injured. So, today is my first official NFL wife experience. I have to admit, I’ve been giddy, trying on about thirty outfits before I finally settled on one of my husband’s jerseys, a pair of purple faux leather pants, and silver heels. Bailey ordered all the girls stadium clutches with our guys’ numbers painted on them, which really completes the look. When she told me they were made by Grace Lake, wife of the Boston Blizzard quarterback and owner of the most successful game day couture line ever, I was in shock. There’s a waitlist for custom pieces a mile long, but I guess there are perks to having very talented friends, because here we are, looking cute with our matching bags.

“Why am I nervous?” I groan, just as Sydney emerges from the bathroom, her hair perfectly curled and lips impeccably glossed. She’s a blonde vixen in her ripped jeans and oversized Renegades T-shirt, the black and purple Converse on her feet giving her acute, but edgyvibe. At barely over five feet tall, she’d be intimidating to even the meanest football player if he didn’t know her.Thankfully, she’s on our side, because she’s one hell of a firecracker if you piss her off.

“Can’t be worse than the start of last season,” she quips. “Maddox was absolute trash until Livvy finally started giving it up. I want to puke every time he utters the phrasemagical pussy, but I’ll give credit where credit is due, because he’s a lot better now.” A boisterous laugh bursts from my chest. We all know that Maddox’s improvements over the past year are because of the older Grant sister’s coaching abilities, but I’m sure the sex doesn’t hurt, either.

“I get nervous, too,” Bailey says as she takes her spot beside me. “As proud as I am that Jett is living his dream, I think I’ll always be terrified when he gets hit. I feel like I’m holding my breath up here more often than not.” I huff a forced exhale, nodding in understanding. I was a constant worrier when Emmett played in high school. The guys in this league are much bigger and stronger, so I’m sure I’ll be biting my nails down to the quick all day long.

“And now!” the announcer says, voice booming through the speakers as the stadium goes dark, spotlights pointed at the tunnel where dry ice pours onto the turf. “Your Rock City Renegades!” The crowd goes wild as the guys burst onto the field, my heart pounding behind my rib cage as number eighty comes into view. I can’t stop my chest from swelling with pride, so full of emotion from seeing my husband down there with our last name stretched across his back. This is the life we planned when we were barely old enough to understand, and now we’re living every beautiful moment for the whole world to see.

“Oh my God, Stell! Look!” Bailey says, pointing at thegiant Jumbotron that hangs above the end zone. A live shot of me with the caption STELLA HAYES (EMMETT HAYES’ WIFE) is displayed at the bottom in big, bold letters, my cheeks heating as I wave sheepishly to everyone in attendance—and probably all the fans watching at home. Theo taps Emmett’s shoulder, pointing up at the screen, and as soon as he sees me, he throws his head back in exasperation. I can practically hear him groan from here, the long, dragged-outfuuuuuuckplaying on his lips solidifying the fact that he’s still affected by the sight of me in his jersey.

Good. Because he’s totally fucking me in it later.

The Renegades win their first game of the season by fourteen points, Emmett blowing his own receiving yards record out of the water by a mile. He looked up at me after each of his three touchdowns, causing butterfly wings to tickle the inside of my stomach just like they did when we were kids.

We’ve come so far since then, and still have so many amazing years in front of us, but one thing will always remain. I love Emmett Hayes with my whole heart, and I’m grateful that fate overturned my bad call so we could be teammates for life.